Page:Dominie depos'd, or, Somr (sic) reflections on his intrigue with a young lass, and what happened thereupon (2).pdf/24

24 Maggy Johnston's Elegy.

Some said it was the pith o broom, That she stow'd in her masking loom, Which in our heads rais'd sic a foom, Or so wild seed, Which aft the chappen-stoup did toom, But fill'd our head.

But now since 'tis sae that we must, Not in the best ale put our trust, But when we're auld return to dust, Without remead; Why should we tak it in disgust, Since Maggy's dead.

O' warldly comforts she was rife, An' liv'd a lang and hearty life, Right free of care, or toil, or strife, Till she was stale; An kend to be a canny wife At brewing ale.

Then fareweel Maggy dowſe and fell, O brewers as ye bore the bell; Let a' your gossips, yelp and yell, An' without feed, Guess whither ye're in heaven or hell, They're sure ye're dead.

EPITAP II.

O Rare Maggy Johnston !